


Peacemaker

by kimstaticchild



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fairies, Fairy, GT, Gen, Gwendolyn - OC, Magic, Micah - OC, Prisoners, Size Difference, TINY - Freeform, fae, giant, railroad, train
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-12 05:37:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7087414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimstaticchild/pseuds/kimstaticchild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After hearing a rumor about powerful warlocks, the Winchesters search an abandoned railcar for the power source. What they don't expect to find is a couple of fairies being held captive, drained of their magic. The boys aren't sure what to make of these captives. Enemies of the enemy aren't always friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_BANG! BANG-BANG!_

Gwen awoke with a gasp, greeted by pain throbbing in her wings. That wasn't anything new, but the _noise_ certainly was. She turned her head, or at least she tried to. Her cheek pressed onto the freezing wood of the table, and her gasping breaths formed a pale mist. Her view was blocked by a thick book lying open with its pages face-down, but she could see the door of the train car was still shut.

The ruckus in the other car didn't stop. More deafening _bang_ s rang out, accompanied by shouting. Some of them were familiar voices. Others weren't.

"Lady Gwendolyn!" Micah's voice came from the other side of the table. She expected to find him pinned to the table in the same fashion as her, but he was on his feet, wings twitching with pain. 

As he made his way around her, she lifted her head, eyes wide. "H-how did you get free?" she whispered. The iron pins that secured their wings to the table were untouchable by them--or so she thought.

Micah dropped to his knees beside her right wing and lifted his left hand for her to see. She winced, unable to bear the sight. The skin of his palm and fingers was burned horribly, covered in angry red, bleeding blisters. Gwen hissed through her teeth, meeting the man's gaze with a mixture of sympathy and horror.

"Something's happening," Micah said urgently. "The warlocks are under attack. This may be our only chance to get ourselves away, my lady. The burns will heal." He reached for the pin that was driven into her right wing.

"No! Micah, no, I'll do it--"

"I'm sworn to protect you, my lady," he said. There was a familiar toothy smile behind his short scruffy beard, but the grim look in his eyes made her tender heart clench. 

Before she could argue again, he gripped the pin, swallowed a cry, and pulled. The movement agitated the puncture in her wing. Gwen bit down her lip until she tasted blood in her mouth. And then for a moment, there was sweet relief. However, the second that Micah removed the pin, he released it to free himself of the burning sensation. 

The iron fell onto her wing. Gwen threw her head back and screamed.

"Forgive me, my lady," Micah hissed, shoving the pin aside. "One more to go. We're almost free. Please, stay strong." He hurried around to her other side and reached for the remaining pin.

"No," she croaked, batting his hand away insistently. With the new mobility on her right side, she leaned over to grab the iron before Micah could. She cried out, squeezing her eyes and sending tears trickling from the corners. "Dagda, have mercy," she gasped through short breaths. The flesh of her fingers and palm was boiling, cast into unseen flames. She couldn't remember how to move her hand. Micah's frantic whispers of concern faded in and out. 

With a tiny whimper, Gwen ripped the pin upward and freed her wing. She released the iron and sat up hastily, scrambling away from it as if it would follow her. She cradled her burnt hand to her chest, sobs shaking her shoulders. Fingers twitching with agony, she couldn't bring herself to even peek at the damage.

Micah's good hand caught her shoulder in a strong, reassuring grip. "Shh, we're free. Come, my lady, we need--"

The massive door flew open with a crash that made both fairies jump in alarm, and a beam of light filled the train car. Gwen clamped her uninjured hand to her mouth and cowered against Micah as a large figure filled the doorway--taller and more built than any of their captors. The beam swept across the train car, but the brunt of the light didn't hit the pair of fairies on the table. It was only a matter of time.

"Under the book," Micah whispered to her, stepping back to find another hiding place for himself. " _Now_."

She obeyed without question. Anything to stay out of sight from the towering shadow man. Folding her wings against her back, she crawled beneath the pages of the open book and curled up as tightly as she could, leaving one hand over her mouth to muffle any whimpers.

The human's voice boomed through the train car. "Find anything yet, Sammy?"


	2. Chapter 2

_The hell was that?_

Certain he had heard a noise, Dean swung the flashlight to the corner of the railcar. He was tense, but there didn't seem to be anything more in the room than a rickety old table loaded with a book and some strange containers. Seeing as it was the only thing in the room, Dean started that way.

"Find anything yet, Sammy?" he called over his shoulder.

"Nothing," Sam said from the other railcar. "A lot of junk, by the looks of it. I wouldn't call any of this a 'power source'."

"There's gotta be something," Dean reasoned, coming to a stop in front of the table and holding his flashlight over it. "These bastards were definitely protecting something to put up such a damn hard fight."

The warlocks were uncommonly powerful, and word was that they had been boasting about some kind of magic enhancer that everyone seemed to want to get their hands on.

Spotting a glint in the beam of the flashlight, Dean plucked up a metal pin from the table. He brought it up to his face, narrowing his eyes at it. It would have hardly been noteworthy, if not for the tiny streak of red in the middle that he wasn't sure what to make of. 

Dean set the pin down and went for the book next. It was lying face-down, open at the middle. He grabbed one side to flip it over. 

A cry cut through the air, and he flinched his hand away before he could turn the book. He frowned, listening to a scuffling noise on the table, right beneath the book. The sound stopped, and he swore he could hear the faintest voice whispering some kind of prayer. His free hand automatically moved to his handgun and pulled it from the waistband of his jeans.

"I'm giving you a chance to come out," Dean warned, wondering if whatever was under there would even understand him. No person could be that small… But it had a _voice_. "Better do it now, or I'll _make_ you come out."

Silence answered him.

"So that's how it's gonna be." Keeping his gun at the ready, Dean brought the flashlight to the edge of the book, slipping it under the middle and flipping it back sharply to reveal what was hiding beneath.

At first, he couldn't tell exactly what it was--a small mass of curled limbs and what seemed to be dragonfly wings. But then it lifted its head, peeking at him with pale green eyes that glistened with tears in the light.

It was a kid, no older than 15 or 16 years old. Her tawny skin and dark magenta curls were smeared with grime and what Dean could only assume was dry blood. She uncurled herself, staring up at Dean with terrified eyes, the way someone would look at Godzilla looming over them. Her tattered purple frock dragged over the wooden tabletop as she scooted back on her hands, her chest shaking with quiet sobs.

"Hey…" Dean set the flashlight down on the edge of the table, leaving the beam pointed at his find. Too amazed to be satisfied with merely looking at her, he inched his hand toward the tiny girl, astounded at the realization that she was barely the size of his ring finger.

The kid froze up and threw her hands back over head in response, shuddering when his fingertips came within five inches of her. 

That was as far as he got before a burst of light came from the other side of the table. In the next instant, his hand felt like it was on fire. Dean shouted in surprise and pain, bringing his hand back against himself. As the burning sensation on his skin began to fade, he spotted another tiny person on the table--a man with shaggy black hair who looked to be a little older than Dean.

The tiny man's wings flared as he put himself between Dean and the girl. "I'm going to have to ask you to back away, hunter," the man said.

There was an obvious strain in his voice. Dean wasn't sure if it came from fear or exhaustion; all he knew was that he had been attacked, and he needed to stop it from happening again. Dean threw his hand out again, with none of the slow curiosity of before. The girl screamed as he closes his fingers around the man, trapping his arms at his sides and flattening his wings to his back. Without hesitation, Dean lifted his hand from the table. The man snarled and writhed, but Dean didn't give him any leeway.

"No!" The winged girl got to her feet and ran forward, throwing her hands up toward Dean's fist as if she could reach her companion. "P-please, sir, put him down! Please, he was only trying to protect me! Don't hurt him!" Her little wings hummed as she ran, carrying her a few inches into the air before she crashed back down on the table with a cry of pain, wings twitching.

"Dean?" Sam rushed into the train car, holding his gun. He came to a stop near the threshold. "I heard you scream. What happened?"

Dean glanced at his hand, then at the table. "I, uh… Honestly, I don't know what to tell you."


	3. Chapter 3

Gwen swore her heart skipped a beat when the other hunter entered the room, standing even taller than the first one. There was no way she and Micah could survive _two_ of them, especially given that the hunters defeated the fairies' original captors. Monsters replaced by other monsters.

Micah grunted and cursed as he struggled within the blond hunter's grasp. Her insides crumpled. Micah had been so powerful before the warlocks captured them both and drained their magic. Now, her sworn protector was being overpowered by nothing more than a hand. A hand that could crush him at any moment if the hunter decided Micah wasn't worth dealing with.

"Get over here, Sam," Dean boomed, turning his narrow-eyed glare back to his captive.

"Release me, and I'll go easy on you," Micah said through gritted teeth. He was promptly ignored.

As the floor shook with the other hunter's approach, Gwen was torn between fleeing to the other side of the table or holding her ground to protect Micah however she could. She was only trained in the basics of combat magic--the type she could use to hold off an attacker until someone else came along to assist her. If her protector, a fairy trained most of his life to fight, couldn't incapacitate even one hunter, she certainly couldn't take on both of them.

"Holy shit," Sam murmured, drawing Gwen out of her hopeless thoughts. The brown-haired hunter was focused on Dean's hand, observing Micah's struggles with wide hazel eyes. "Is that…?"

"Fairies," Dean said. "I mean, they have to be, right?"

" _They_?" Sam frowned and peered down at the table, zeroing in on Gwen. Her wings gave a weak flutter in response. She scooted away, unable to stand having both of the hunters' gazes pointed at her. The pathetic attempt to put some distance between herself and them made Sam lift his hand to stop her. "Should I--"

"Stop!" Micah spat, writhing more than ever to free himself. He hadn't even managed to unpin one arm. It was only a matter of time before his weak magic was rejuvenated enough to attack the hunter again. For now, all he had was words. "Leave her be! She's a child! She's only a _child_!"

Sam's reaching hand paused. The hunter leaned down closer to the table, filling Gwen's line of sight and leaving her too petrified to move. She trembled under his rapt stare, feeling like a particularly interesting specimen for him to behold. It was the precisely the way the warlocks made her feel, though there didn't seem to be greed written on Sam's face. At least none that she could see.

"Please, no," she breathed, breaking out of her frozen state to lean away.

His hand was on the move again. Gwen ducked down, squeezing her eyes shut and covering her ears. She barely caught the sound of Micah shouting again, more desperate than ever to keep Gwen out of the hunter's grasp. Something warm came up from behind. She took a deep breath, waiting for the fingers to confine her in their stifling grasp.

Nothing happened. The hand stayed behind her, but it didn't close up on her.

The hunter murmured something, perhaps expecting her to climb onto his hand on her own, just to rub in the power he held over her. But he didn't sound angry. Slowly, Gwen uncovered her ears and peeked up, hastily brushing away her forming tears to get a good look at the hunter's face.

"Take it easy," Sam said, a surprising gentleness to his tone.

Gwen shuddered. Gentle or not, she couldn't tell if the hand behind her was supposed to serve as a barrier or a comfort. Either way, she carefully refrained from touching it with so much as a wing tip. She was free from his overwhelming gaze for the time being when he looked at Dean.

"I think you should put him down," Sam said.

Blinking in surprise, Gwen cocked her head at him. Monsters didn't do that.

"What?" Dean snapped, sound as surprised as she felt. "Listen, Sammy. These two may be little, but it looks like they can pack a punch. Hell, this one attacked me!" He held Micah up a little higher as if to prove his point.

Micah twisted around to scowl at Dean. "Then perhaps it would be unwise to be holding me when I do it again!"

Gwen couldn't believe it. The fact that either of the hunters was even _suggesting_ that Micah be released sounded too good to be true. But if there was even a slim chance it could happen, she wasn't going to squander it. Pushing herself to stand, she kept a healthy distance from Sam's hand, straightening her back and squaring her shoulders the way her parents had taught her.

"H-he was only defending me," she piped up, her voice much too tremulous. She cleared her throat. "He is my sworn protector. He'll listen to me if I order him not to attack anymore. If you d-don't release him, I cannot make any promises."


	4. Chapter 4

Dean made no move to deny the girl's request, nor go through with it. Something about the way she talked suggested an elegant upbringing, but he didn't know what to think. He had to admit, though, she had a lot of guts to speak up. She looked like she wanted to bolt, but she held her ground. Maybe it had something to do with Sam's hand blocking the path behind her.

"How do I know I'm not gonna get my hand fried the moment I let go?" Dean asked, throwing a narrow-eyed look of suspicion at the tiny man, who readily returned the favor. _If looks could kill…_

The girl trembled like a doe. "M-Micah. If sir hunter puts you down, you're not to attack him. Either of them. Do you understand?"

Micah made a noise of disapproval. "My lady, I've seen what hunters do to our kind. We can't trust them--"

"I d-don't trust them!" she interrupted, her voice hitching. "But I don't know what else to do! I need him to put you down. I don't know how much longer I can be brave by myself." She shuddered and glanced back at Sam's hand, as if waiting for him to change his mind and snatch her up. She fixed her pleading pale green eyes back on her guardian. "I don't want him to hurt you, Micah. Promise me you won't attack if he lets you go. _Please._ Promise me!"

There was a long pause. Micah looked torn, glancing between Dean and Gwen before he finally gave a deep sigh of defeat. "Of course, my lady. I promise." He looked at Gwen pointedly when he said it, making it clear that the promise was for her sake and no one else's. Then he turned his glare on Dean again, expectantly.

Dean didn't move, unsure what he distrusted more: the girl's supposed innocence, or the man's supposed promise.

"Dude," Sam prompted, pulling his hand away from the table. Gwen flinched in alarm, but in the end she seemed to breathe easier without being crowded. "You should put him down."

After another beat of hesitation, Dean lowered his hand to the table and uncurled his fingers. The fairy fell to his knees with a gasp of surprise, and Dean quickly snatched his hand back, warily observing for any tell-tale sign of aggression.

Before Micah was even on his feet, Gwen threw herself at him and clung hard. The man faltered for a second before returning the hug fervently. Dean shuffled his feet uncomfortably. Even so small and cast in shadows, there was something unnervingly human-like about the display. It was the wings that ruined it. Micah's wings were folded back--whether from self-discipline or being cramped in a fist, Dean didn't know. Gwen's wings, however, were twitching like shorted wires in an unmistakable manifestation of anxiety.

"Are you hurt?" Gwen asked, her voice so quiet that Dean didn't realize he was leaning closer to listen until he noticed Sam doing the same.

"No worse than I was before, my lady," Micah assured, smoothing her tangled hair down. He turned his head and caught sight of Sam and Dean looming overhead. Bristling, Micah released Gwen and shoved her behind him. He raised his hand. He held no weapon, so his hand itself had to be a source of attack. "Step away, sirs. We've been through enough, and you know by now that I'm not afraid to retaliate if need be."

At the sight of the tiny hand raising, Dean went rigid. This guy could attack at any moment with no other warning. But Dean's eyes slid to the girl. She clutched at the side of Micah's shirt, infinitesimal fingers digging into the fabric as she hid halfway behind him. One pale green eye peeked up at Dean and his brother, wide with fear.

Plenty of terrible things came with the job of being a hunter, but terrorizing a young girl and her guardian who was clearly willing to risk his life for her felt so _wrong_.

Dean tried to lessen the edge of his tone. "Well, buddy, we're gonna need some answers. We heard about some warlocks leeching off of a rare power source. We found the warlocks, so you two are…"

"The power source," Micah finished. Dean's hand automatically went to his gun when Micah's raised hand began to glow with raw energy--a blatant threat. "And you were planning on eliminating the power source, weren't you? That's what hunters do. Eliminate what they can't comprehend."

"No!" Gwen lunged forward and swung around in front of Micah to grab his hand. Just like that, Micah put out the magic, but not without giving her a look of impatience. She didn't waver. "You promised!"

"My lady, a broken promise will mean nothing when they _kill_ us!" he snapped.

"Then why haven't they killed us?" she cried, holding his wrist with both hands. Despite her determination to stop Micah, uncertainty was still written on her face as she looked up at the hunters. Tentative hope sparked in her eyes. "Why haven't you?" she asked, softer.


	5. Chapter 5

Micah was torn between staring at Gwen in disbelief, and glaring at the hunters. Silencing her protests, he stepped forward to put himself in front of Gwen. The sight of the brown-haired hunter’s hand resting so near to her was seared into Micah's mind. That would _not_ be happening again.

"We came here to clear out a pack of warlocks," Sam said in response to Gwen. "They were hurting people in the next town over, and by the looks of it… you two weren't exactly working _with_ them."

"We weren't," Gwen confirmed, peeking around Micah's arm despite his attempt to keep her back from the enormously dangerous entities. "We've never hurt anyone before. They hunted us down for our magic. T-they pinned us down with iron! Our energy was drained everyday with terrible spells. We couldn't fight back, we had no choice!"

"Relax, kid," Dean said in his rumbling voice. To his credit, he lowered his weapon.

That didn't stop Micah from snapping at him. "You disrespect her by addressing like that. She's a Lady, and she should be called as such."

The hunter's eyebrows shot up, and a smirk tugged at his lips as he cocked his head to get a better look at Gwen. "Wait, are you seriously… some kind of _fairy princess_?"

Gwen giggled in amusement before Micah could sternly correct him. She moved a little more into the open, keeping a hand on Micah's arm by way of assurance that she wouldn't go far. "A princess? Me?" She shook her head, magenta curls tossing about. "No, my name is Lady Gwendolyn Valris. And this is Micah Peake, my sworn protector."

Even in the darkness, Micah could see Dean's massive fingers twitch in their hold on his gun. "Well, _Lady_ Gwendolyn, I'd feel a lot better if your sworn protector wasn't threatening to attack me and my brother every five seconds."

Micah smiled derisively and didn't lower his warning hand. "And _I'd_ feel a lot better if you didn't have that damn thing out."

After a clear beat of hesitation, the hunter put away the weapon and made it a point to hold up his hands in an exaggerated show of peace. The action only made Micah want to pull Gwen behind him again. She tugged his arm insistently, and finally he made himself lower his hand.

"What do you plan to do with us, then?" Micah demanded.

The hunters themselves seemed stumped on that question. Micah wasn't sure whether that was a good or bad thing. At least it meant that they didn't have something immediate and horrible in mind. Dean exchanged a look with his brother, who pursed his lips in thought.

"I mean… They're victims, Dean," Sam said. "They suffered from this as much as anyone else."

"Yeah, but…" Dean's sharp gaze returned to the table--to Micah, in particular. Micah could see the indecision on that huge face, lit ominously by the flashlight. After all, the hunter had experienced firsthand that a fairy could inflict pain. And Micah hadn't even been at full strength. "How're we supposed to know if they're telling the truth about not hurting people?"

Micah scoffed. "Try not to think too hard."

Making a noise of disapproval at his bluntness, Gwen stepped forward completely. Micah could still see the little shake in his hands, but she stood straight and looked up at the hunters with more bravery than he gave her credit for. "Sirs. Did anything draw you to this place before the warlocks? No. Because our kind hasn't been causing any trouble here. We… We go out of our way to stay as far from humans as possible. The warlocks stole us from that safety."

There was a round of silence as the hunters exchanged another look. It was as if they were having an entire conversation without opening their mouths.

Without warning, Dean stepped closer and dropped to a crouch in front of the table. Gwen flinched back slightly with her wings fanning, and Micah surged forward.

"Take it easy, sworn protector," the hunter scoffed. "Just trying to get a better look."

Indeed, he was easily at eye level with the fairies. That didn't make Micah any more relaxed than when he was looming above them. Gwen looked over her shoulder. Trepidation was written all over her face, but she gave a firm nod to Micah to say that she was alright. She slowly faced front again.

"Will you let us go?" she asked softly, her little shoulders rigid with nerves.

Dean stared at her for an unnervingly long time before he sighed. "Okay. We'll let you walk. But if we hear about anything-- _anything_ going down around here…" He trailed off, his brow pinching as he looked at Gwen, perhaps leaving out the detail of what would happen because he was addressing someone so young and vulnerable.

"T-thank you," Gwen said, bowing her head. Her voice was thin with a mixture of crippling relief and lingering fear. "You and your brother's mercy won't be forgotten, sir hunter."

Dean looked like he wasn't sure what to say to that. "Just… keep your noses clean, and you can forget us all you want." With that, he stood back up and reached for the table. He shot Micah a look. "Relax, I'm just getting the flashlight."

The other hunter looked at the fairies thoughtfully, curiosity in his hazel-eyed gaze. "You said your wings were pinned. Is that… You're sure you're going to be fine after that?"

"We'll be fine," Gwen said quickly, folding her hands in front of her. "The pain of iron fades, and the holes are small enough that we'll still be able to fly."

Sam gave a hesitant nod of his head. "Stay safe out there."

"And try not to get capture by warlocks again," Dean added. "Really."

After a lingering look from both hunters, they turned and headed for the door, massive boots thumping on the wooden boards of the train car. They passed through door, taking the illumination of the flashlights with them. Before long, the train fell silent, other than the wind whistling through the cracks of the walls.

In his distraction of listening to make sure the hunters weren't coming back, Micah was startled when Gwen rushed to throw her arms around him. She hugged him tightly, shaking.

"You're very brave, my lady," Micah told her gently, tilting her chin so he could see her face in the dim light.

She shook her head. "I'm not. That… that was so scary."

" _Exactly_ ," he chuckled, ruffling her already-messy hair. "Come on. Let's go home."


End file.
